Pie In The Sky (1994) s02e05 Episode Script

Dead Right

1
S02xE05 "Dead Right" Feb 12, 1995
Good luck, Miss Revelle.
Ladies and gentlemen
the moment youÂ´ve all been
waiting for
may I present
BritainÂ´s most gifted psychic
medium, Miss Faith Revelle.
Good evening.
Now, remember, weÂ´re all friends
here tonight.
So thereÂ´s nothing to fear.
Now, you and I know that
no one is ever truly lost
simply hidden from view.
[ ORCHESTRA PLAYING ON RADIO ]
Everything all right, Mr. Crabbe?
CRABBE: "Is it worth it?", I ask myself.
JOHN: I think so.
CRABBE: The finest breast
of Aylesbury duckling
served with a delicately balanced puree
of apples, sage, and onion
JOHN: Yes.
CRABBE: Accompanied by
galette of potatoes.
And that philistine on table 1
asked for mustard.
JOHN: Well, at least
he chose English mustard.
CRABBE: ItÂ´s no comfort, John.
MARGARET:
Henry?
HeÂ´s in the chicken house.
HeÂ´ll be out in a minute.
Table 1?
Afraid so.
Sometimes I think he talks
to those chickens
more than he talks to me.
HENDERSON: Cheaper than therapy,
Miss Crabbe.
Not when you consider
the heating and lighting
not to mention, the food.
And are those chickens grateful?
No, theyÂ´re not.
ProductivityÂ´s down again.
HENDERSON: Maybe thatÂ´s
the problem no incentives.
MARGARET: And what do you suggest?
HENDERSON: Well, that music,
for a start.
I mean, you wouldnÂ´t get
the Japs playing Elgar
in their factories.
ItÂ´s well, itÂ´s too soothing.
Those birds are so mellow,
theyÂ´re positively horizontal.
MARGARET:
Hardly a good position for laying.
HENDERSON: You want my advice?
Change your music.
MARGARET: To what?
Modern jazz?
NICOLA: Pfft! Heavy metal.
No, a birdy song.
I was only joking, right?
Well, it was in extremely poor taste.
Thank you.
Good night.
ThereÂ´s been another letter.
FAITH: "You tread
"on sacred paths.
Remember no man shall see me and live."
TheyÂ´re getting worse.
MAN: ItÂ´s getting out of hand.
We need to talk to an expert.
FISHER: IÂ´ll catch you up.
CouldnÂ´t it wait?
MAN: ItÂ´s a matter of life and death.
FISHER: DonÂ´t think weÂ´re not grateful
for Miss RevelleÂ´s contribution
last time.
And IÂ´m sure if we ever need
her help in the future
MAN: ItÂ´s Faith who needs your help.
FISHER: In what way?
MAN: SheÂ´s playing
the Middleton Theatre.
SheÂ´s been receiving
threatening letters.
Any idea who sent them?
MAN: None.
FISHER: Thought Miss Revelle
was psychic?
IÂ´m sure the boys at the station
will take it very seriously.
MAN: Faith wants you to handle it.
She knows you.
FISHER: I rarely involve myself
in individual cases these days.
What is it the press call it
"the need to know" factor?
And if anything
were to happen to Miss Revelle
Is, uh is that some sort of a threat?
Faith is the guardian of a very
special gift, Mr. Fisher.
I donÂ´t have to tell you that.
HENDERSON: The possibilities
are endless.
Let the soup markets fight over
nighttime Cornflake eaters.
IÂ´m thinking of cultivating
wild mushrooms.
CRABBE: Cultivating
wild mushrooms, Henderson,
is a contradiction in terms.
Mind you soÂ´s the free market
economy.
JOHN: Mr. Fisher to see you, Chef.
What day is it?
Thursday.
CRABBE: Oh.
ThatÂ´s what I thought.
ItÂ´s Thursday, sir.
ShouldnÂ´t you be pushing
a golf trolley somewhere?
You pull a golf trolley, Crabbe.
CRABBE: Oh.
Have you heard of Faith Revelle?
CRABBE: No, I canÂ´t say I have, sir.
Psychic medium sheÂ´s got
a show down at the theatre.
SheÂ´s been receiving these.
Obviously, the work
is some religious crank.
Not, uh, not life-threatening,
would you say?
Well, IÂ´m not a psychic, sir.
FISHER: Miss Revelle
claims to have no idea who sent them.
Her psychic powers are not programmed
to deal with hate mail, apparently.
Well, if you could be brief,
sir, IÂ´m needed in the kitchen.
What is the dish of the day?
Boiled pigÂ´s head, sir.
You were saying?
FISHER: About three years ago,
a local G.P., Dr. Madden,
was assaulted on a night call
by a couple of junkies after
drugs dreadful business.
CRABBE: And whatÂ´s that got to
do with Faith Revelle, sir?
It was information supplied
by Miss Revelle
that led to the arrest
of the assailants.
Ah, law
Not exactly.
Not exactly, sir?
Miss Revelle came by this information
from a rather dubious source.
She had a vision, Crabbe.
Psychic vision.
Right.
Crabbe.
Sir, IÂ´m trying to run a restaurant.
Steve, would you please find something
for the Assistant Chief
Constable to whip
that seems to be his forte.
FISHER: Crabbe?
Look, sir, itÂ´s either here or nowhere.
Now, a vision you were saying?
Well, naturally, when Revelle
first turned up at the nick,
I dismissed her
she was some sort of nutter.
CRABBE: And you were desperate
for a result?
Of course, I insisted
on a press embargo.
CRABBE: What, she agreed to that?
FISHER: At the time.
At the time, yeah. Uh, yes. And now?
Her manager, Jim Shane,
wants me to handle Miss RevelleÂ´s
present difficulties personally.
Or else heÂ´ll go to the press?
Yes, well, you can just see what
the tabloids will make of that.
Senior police officer
consults psychic medium.
Mind you it didnÂ´t do
Ronald Reagan any harm.
FISHER: Crabbe, a womanÂ´s life
is being threatened.
Oh, come on, sir.
You donÂ´t seriously expect me
to abandon my kitchen
to babysit some second-rate
fork bender, do you?
FISHER: Cambridge
will pick you up at 2:00.
What exactly have I been making?
Gooseberry fool, sir.
CAMBRIDGE: Afternoon.
I have a room booked.
The nameÂ´s Cambridge.
WOMAN: Uh, room 5, next to your friend,
Miss Revelle, as requested.
If youÂ´d like to sign there.
Hardly an auspicious start.
Well, the letters
are coming to the theatre
not the easiest of places
to keep secrets.
CRABBE: Hmm.
Now, when youÂ´ve got yourself
settled in,
phone the local newspaper
and try and find out
who talked about those letters, okay?
Meanwhile, IÂ´ll introduce myself
to Miss Revelle.
Inspector Crabbe.
Yes?
REVELLE: Mr. Fisher told me
to expect you.
Come in.
Thank you.
You know, your threatening letters
have made headlines in the local papers?
REVELLE: Yes.
It wonÂ´t make things worse, will it?
Well, not to our potential
assailant, no.
It may make him more cautious.
REVELLE: Hmm. I see.
Uh, have you mentioned these
letters to a reporter?
I beg your pardon?
Well, itÂ´s in all our interests
if the press were not involved.
Uh, and now IÂ´ve got to ask you
a rather obvious and boring
question, IÂ´m afraid.
REVELLE: Yes. No.
Inspector, I have no idea
who should wish to harm me.
Any recent disagreements?
Not that IÂ´m aware of.
Although, people who are contacted
donÂ´t necessarily hear from my lips
what they would like to hear.
Well, if anyone springs to mind
If only they would.
I can tell you, Inspector,
I find this entire business
extremely unnerving.
CRABBE: IÂ´m sure.
Look, uh, why not cancel
the whole of the week?
I couldnÂ´t possibly do that
Too many people depending on me.
What, employees or customers?
Both, Inspector.
Oh.
How long have you been a medium?
Well, I was a librarian
Â´til two years ago.
I gather from Mr. Fisher
that you run a restaurant
in your spare time.
And he highly recommended
the steak and kidney pie.
I think I should try it one night.
CRABBE: Please do.
I must be going.
Detective Sergeant Cambridge
is just opposite.
SheÂ´ll be keeping an eye out for you.
If you do want to leave
the hotel, please let her know?
Have they got
the builders in next door?
I donÂ´t think so.
CRABBE: Oh.
WhatÂ´s this?
Late lunch.
I thought I might take you out tonight.
MARGARET: Out?
What about the restaurant?
Steve reckons he can cope and
John says heÂ´ll do the bills.
MARGARET: Where are we going?
A show.
You are taking me to the theatre.
Henry, this is wonderful.
What are we going to see?
Henry
CRABBE: Put your trust in Faith.
ItÂ´s quite biblical, really.
Well, you know Freddy Fisher,
heÂ´d consult a sheepÂ´s entrails
if he thought
it would further his career.
MARGARET: But a medium?
CRABBE: She did get a result,
Margaret God knows how.
Look, IÂ´ve got to go backstage
and see Cambridge.
IÂ´ll meet you inside, all right?
MARGARET: All right.
CRABBE: I wonÂ´t be long.
Everything all right?
CAMBRIDGE: So far, sir.
CRABBE: Do we know whoÂ´s, uh,
told the newspaper?
CAMBRIDGE: No, whoever rang the
reporter wouldnÂ´t leave a name.
CRABBE: Was it a man or a woman?
CAMBRIDGE: CouldnÂ´t tell, sir.
Great. So whatÂ´s the situation here?
IÂ´ve had a word
with the stage doorkeeper.
No oneÂ´s ever seen the letters
being delivered.
Is it worth putting someone
on surveillance?
Waste of manpower, sir. Letters
never arrive at the same time.
CRABBE: if she wonÂ´t cancel,
weÂ´ll have to have
a couple officers out there.
I have tried, but Miss Revelle
seems to think the audience
might sense them
put the punters off.
Not "punters," Cambridge
theyÂ´re her public.
Which tonight,
thanks to Mr. Fisher, includes me.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the moment youÂ´ve all been
waiting for
may I present BritainÂ´s most
gifted psychic medium
Well, I didnÂ´t think youÂ´d want one.
MAN: Miss Faith Revelle.
Good evening.
Now we are cooking!
Table 3 are waiting
for their vegetables.
Your mother seems quite distressed.
Is that possible?
Something to do with money?
CRABBE: IsnÂ´t it always?
REVELLE: She seems quite unhappy.
Why would that be?
DonÂ´t know.
She says thatÂ´s not true.
Is it Â´cause of there being no will?
She said she always meant to make one.
She says you always knew that.
CRABBE: ItÂ´s basic police
interviewing technique.
MAN: I told Marjorie mother
wouldnÂ´t like it.
REVELLE: Like what?
Us not giving the rest
of the family anything.
Your mother wants you
to put things right.
Prompting, echoing questions
Any training P.C. could do this.
MARGARET: Shh!
REVELLE: She says
that money was meant for all of you.
Trust us
once youÂ´ve shared the money,
the pain will go.
MARGARET: Well, I think
she was terrific.
CRABBE: What?!
MARGARET: There are 200 seats
in that theatre.
ThatÂ´s 200 people
at Â£10 a time Â£2,000,
plus all the extra sale.
The show costs peanuts to put on.
YouÂ´ve got the rental of the theatre,
the rest is pure profit.
Miss RevelleÂ´s big business.
CRABBE: Margaret, sheÂ´s
exploiting innocent
and vulnerable people.
MARGARET: Well, I didnÂ´t see anyone
dragged kicking and screaming
onto that stage, Henry.
Not everyoneÂ´s quite
as self-contained as you are.
Oh, come in, Mr. Crabbe.
CRABBE: Hello?
Hello.
Miss Revelle, IÂ´d like you
to meet my wife, Margaret.
- REVELLE: Oh. Hello.
- MARGARET: Great show.
Thank you.
CAMBRIDGE: ThereÂ´s been
another letter, sir.
"Beware of false prophets,
"which come to you
in sheepÂ´s clothing."
- Anyone see this arrive?
- CAMBRIDGE: No.
Perhaps tomorrow, we can think
again about a list
of possible suspects?
Why donÂ´t you take Miss Revelle
out on a picnic?
She doesnÂ´t want to spend all her time
cooped up in that hotel.
Oh, Margaret, I donÂ´t think
Miss Revelle
No, really. That would be lovely.
If itÂ´s no trouble?
No, we insist.
After all, you got us tickets
for tonightÂ´s show.
ItÂ´s the least Henry can do.
Thought you didnÂ´t want
to go on this picnic?
CRABBE: I still donÂ´t,
but I intend to enjoy the food
when I get there.
Ugh, sweet is revenge
especially to women.
Well, Margaret, anyway.
I think she thought I was
going to take her to something
Sir Simon Rattle-ish.
MARGARET: Two dozen. Can you believe it?
ProductivityÂ´s soaring.
Eh?
Darling, youÂ´re not still
sulking, are you?
If the conversation flags,
get her to tell you your fortune.
I wanted to go and see Henderson today.
Well, take Miss Revelle with you.
CRABBE: Certainly not.
HeÂ´ll want to talk about potato futures.
There isnÂ´t anyone trying
to get through, is there?
REVELLE: DonÂ´t worry, Inspector.
IÂ´ve taken the day off.
IÂ´m having my calls rerouted.
Is there someone you want to talk to?
CRABBE: Why? Is there someone
who wants to talk to me?
REVELLE: Is this some kind of test?
I donÂ´t do party tricks, Inspector.
Besides, graveyards
arenÂ´t very good places
for picking up message
too many crossed lines.
CRABBE: Hmm.
When did you decide to become a medium?
REVELLE: It isnÂ´t something you choose.
I just am.
CRABBE: But, uh, have you always known
youÂ´ve had these, uh, powers?
REVELLE: In a way.
I think for a long time,
I tried to ignore them.
CRABBE: Well, thatÂ´s understandable.
REVELLE: Hmm, youÂ´re very cynical.
What would you do if you heard
voices in your head?
CRABBE: IÂ´m not sure.
REVELLE: Go to the doctor
be labeled a schizophrenic?
CRABBE: Well, mercifully, IÂ´ve
never had the problem.
Tell me, what did you see
on stage last night?
Some ridiculous female spouting
Christmas cracker philosophy?
Is that what you believe?
I asked you. Is that what you saw?
Yes.
REVELLE: "Look not upon the wine
when it is red" Proverbs.
CRABBE: Just a glance, surely.
REVELLE: Oh, please.
CRABBE: You know your Bible well.
REVELLE: My parents were very strict.
CRABBE: Does the responsibility
for what you do frighten you?
REVELLE: I merely decipher.
CRABBE: Well, yes, but anyone
can receive information
itÂ´s how you interpret it that counts.
Tell me about the Madden case?
REVELLE: You must know?
Dr. Madden was viciously attacked.
CRABBE: No, no, no your part in it?
Oh.
One night, I saw two faces.
- CRABBE: Where?
- REVELLE: In my mind.
Had you ever seen them before?
In the library the day after the attack,
Â´cause I was still working there then.
These boys whereabouts
in the library were they?
The Reference section, I think.
CRABBE: Looking at medical books?
Consulting the pharmacopeia?
REVELLE: No.
Checking to see what drugs
theyÂ´d nicked?
No.
IÂ´m trying to find a rational
explanation, you see.
You must have had a hard time
persuading Mr. Fisher
to take you seriously?
REVELLE: No, not really.
He simply insisted that
I didnÂ´t tell the press.
Would have been wonderful publicity.
A man lay in hospital.
What sort of person do you think I am?
I donÂ´t believe it. ItÂ´s doing it again.
CRABBE: What?
STEVE: Separate
My hollandaise sauce never separates.
CRABBE: Try it with a drop
of cold water.
That usually does the trick.
Go on.
Nah, nah, thereÂ´s something
wrong with the eggs
or the butter, or something like that.
I donÂ´t know.
Oh, get it together, you poxy sauce!
REVELLE: WeÂ´re all friends here.
ThereÂ´s nothing to fear.
You and I know that no one
is ever truly lost.
ThereÂ´s been another letter, sir.
CRABBE: Anybody see it delivered?
CAMBRIDGE: No.
But Shane says he found it
when he came in this afternoon.
CRABBE: "The wages of sin is death.
You have been warned."
Well, thatÂ´s interesting.
CAMBRIDGE: Sir?
Most people misquote this as,
"The wages of sin are death."
Obviously, this is written by
someone whoÂ´s well-read or religious,
or both.
No news as yet, IÂ´m afraid.
IÂ´ll let you know as soon
as I hear anything.
REVELLE: Yes I know you will.
You know, you and Jim Shane
seem an unlikely partnership.
Well, it was all due to Jim
I turned professional.
Oh, howÂ´s that?
Well I helped a few people locally.
Word got about, and Jim came to see me.
What, to contact someone?
Initially.
And then he signed you up right away?
Oh, JimÂ´s always believed in me.
And now, thank goodness,
itÂ´s paying off.
You make me holler
MARGARET: Six more since this morning.
ItÂ´s a miracle.
Hello, Pie in the Sky?
Oh, right.
Um, sorry.
Okay, bye.
ThereÂ´s been a complaint.
WeÂ´re going to have
to keep the noise down.
What noise?
IÂ´d be careful, if I were you.
Remember what itÂ´s doing
to the chickens?
Well
boxers, comics, psychic medium
bit of a mixed stable?
What do you want, Crabbe?
Do you believe Faith Revelle
has psychic powers?
It doesnÂ´t matter what I believe.
No, no, no, no,
but, uh, do you?
Inspector I make my money
between the client and the punter.
Faith makes hers between
the living and the dead.
WeÂ´re just middlemen.
Same as you.
CRABBE: Yes.
Now three years ago,
when Faith helped solve the Madden case,
she decided not to talk to the press.
Did you agree with that?
SHANE: No.
So, why did you go along with it?
Faith would have left me.
SheÂ´d given her word.
And she is one of your more
successful clients.
On the whole.
Bookings are down at next weekÂ´s venue.
But, uh, like I told Faith
itÂ´s a temporary blip,
itÂ´s nothing personal.
In your book, is any publicity
good publicity?
SHANE: Yeah.
And would that extend so far as
sending her threatening letters
and informing the local paper?
Crabbe, if I were organizing
a publicity stunt,
it would involve the national tabloids,
and very large checks.
Ah, itÂ´s humiliating.
CRABBE: Oh come on, Steve,
it can happen to anybody.
What if youÂ´re missing something obvious
because youÂ´re so frustrated
with yourself?
It might not be the batter at all.
What if itÂ´s the wrong sort of fat?
I only ever use beef dripping.
"Accept no substitutes," you
said, and youÂ´re right, Chef.
Well, what if itÂ´s the heat?
Have you got it
to the right temperature?
Yeah, I wait until I see
a faint blue haze,
and then I stick the batter in it.
CRABBE: Yeah, and the cooking time?
STEVE: Top shelf, 20 minutes.
CRABBE: Hmm, good, good.
Well, thatÂ´s fair enough.
CRABBE: Ah, but whatever you do,
donÂ´t open the oven doors
for 10 minutes after you put it in.
Otherwise, the batter will just drop.
STEVE: Yeah, I know that, Chef.
I never do that.
IÂ´ll just heat this pizza up.
Thanks.
If, on the other hand
owing to circumstances
entirely beyond your own control
the door is opened,
then just call them batter puddings,
and serve them with a thick onion gravy.
Mr. Fisher to see you, sir.
Ah, did he want to see a menu?
No.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
Yes, sir.
IÂ´ve had Jim Shane on the phone
using words like, "harassment."
He said you accused him
of sending the letters.
ThatÂ´s not true, sir.
I was just prodding, thatÂ´s all.
FISHER: This is a very delicate matter.
CRABBE: So I see, sir.
Let Shane alone!
Sir, Jim Shane has absolutely
no intention whatsoever
of going public
with this Madden case story,
if thatÂ´s whatÂ´s bothering you.
Just get Revelle through the week
without a major incident, will you?
ArenÂ´t we getting all of this
a little out of proportion, sir?
Other police officers have admitted
they have dealings with mediums.
I am not other police officers.
IÂ´m Assistant Chief Constable
of a modern force.
I use computers,
criminal psychologists
I donÂ´t consult Gypsy Rose Lee
went I canÂ´t crack a case.
Is that clear?!
Yes, sir. Crystal.
Good evening.
I havenÂ´t seen anything, but our
usual crowd of cranks.
- How about you?
- CAMBRIDGE: No, sir.
Remember, weÂ´re all friends here.
ThereÂ´s nothing to fear.
ThereÂ´s a young kid getting up.
Male, 18 or 19.
REVELLE: No oneÂ´s ever truly
lost simply hidden from view.
And tonight, weÂ´re going to reach out,
and draw back that curtain.
If youÂ´re so bloody good,
thereÂ´s someone I want to speak to.
REVELLE: What?
I said thereÂ´s someone
I want to speak to.
What? I I canÂ´t just
MAN: I need to speak to someone.
REVELLE: I canÂ´t guarantee anything.
MAN: IÂ´ll risk it.
REVELLE: All right.
IÂ´ll try.
Now whatÂ´s your name?
MAN: Jez Leigh.
And who would you like
to come forward, Jez?
Sally.
REVELLE: Sally your girlfriend?
Has she been gone a long time, Jez?
LEIGH: Yeah.
Jez Sally.
SheÂ´s here.
SheÂ´s here. SheÂ´s with us.
Sally sheÂ´s with us.
LEIGH: Where?
REVELLE: SheÂ´s coming
through now. SheÂ´s happy.
She she wants you to know
that sheÂ´s happy.
Ask her. Ask her why she did it?
Calm down, Jez.
ItÂ´s all right for her.
I said, itÂ´s all right for you.
What about me, eh, youÂ´ve
landed me right in it.
You know that, itÂ´s a mess
a bloody mess.
What am I supposed to do?
Ask her.
Go on, ask the stupid bitch.
REVELLE: Jez, weÂ´ll lose her!
Wait for my signal.
You you said you loved her.
That was before.
SallyÂ´s saying she loves you.
Jez, why are you doing this?
YouÂ´re spoiling everything.
LEIGH: SheÂ´s the one that wrecked it.
How can she rest
knowing youÂ´re so upset?
She canÂ´t bear to see you like this.
LEIGH: She shouldnÂ´t have died.
She did. Forgive yourself.
It wasnÂ´t your fault.
What?
DonÂ´t you understand?
It wasnÂ´t your fault.
She wouldnÂ´t say that.
ItÂ´s all lies! Do you hear?!
ItÂ´s got nothing to do with you!
Nothing!
You shut it! Shut it! You know nothing!
You know nothing! Nothing!
You hear me?! Nothing!
Are you all right?
Yes, IÂ´m fine.
- CRABBE: Are you sure?
- REVELLE: Yes. Thank you.
SHANE: What should I tell the audience?
CRABBE: The showÂ´s over.
No. Just give me a minute.
Ask them to be patient.
Maybe if I offer them tickets
for another night?
IÂ´ll be fine.
CRABBE: Have you ever seen
Jez Leigh before?
REVELLE: No, never.
CRABBE: Right.
She okay?
IÂ´m Detective Inspector Crabbe.
This is Detective Sergeant Cambridge.
WeÂ´ve been expecting you.
I didnÂ´t write any letters.
CRABBE: Why did you come here tonight?
LEIGH: To talk to Sally.
CRABBE: It was to attack
Miss Revelle, wasnÂ´t it?
No.
What if we hadnÂ´t have stopped
you youÂ´d have killed her.
No, course not.
So I shouldnÂ´t have pushed her,
but she wound me up.
Is that why you sent threatening
letters to the stage door?
What flaming letters?
How did she wind you up, Jez?
Over Sally.
What about the power of prayer, Jez?
Eh?
"O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?"
LEIGH: Come again?
The presence of God, Jez
the comfort of his words.
People like you make me sick.
People like what?
Okay, if GodÂ´s so bloody
marvelous, how come SalÂ´s dead?
CAMBRIDGE: You ever been
in trouble before, Jez?
Yeah. All right.
A couple of convictions for dipping.
But that ticket tonight was legit.
And not the wages of sin?
SHANE: Well?
Leigh didnÂ´t send those letters.
You sure?
CRABBE: Positive.
SomethingÂ´s troubling him,
but whatever it is,
itÂ´s got nothing to do
with Miss Revelle.
What on earth keeps disturbing them?
CAMBRIDGE: Urban fox on the prowl, sir?
CRABBE: Oh, Cambridge!
CAMBRIDGE: Sir?
Hmm. Henry CrabbeÂ´s
very own eggs Florentine.
CRABBE: Ah, Florence.
Now, thereÂ´s a city.
Have you ever been there?
REVELLE: No, always wanted to.
Maybe after the book launch.
Well, whatever else you do
insist on a wild boar salami.
ItÂ´s wonderful. Thank you, John.
Now, does Jim Shane
take a percentage of your book sales?
Yes. He negotiated the fee.
Ah, so, he could have sent
those letters?
Why on earth should he?
CRABBE: Well, publicity
something to feed the hacks,
like the one who tipped off
the man at the local paper.
Oh, you think Jim
was responsible for that?
CRABBE: No. Absolutely not.
No, I think you tipped them off.
Because you were worried
about the bookings being down
at your next theatre.
It was you that talked
to them, wasnÂ´t it?
It was just business, Mr. Crabbe.
We may as well get something useful
out of those awful letters.
Is there anything else
you think I ought to know?
- Excuse me?
- BOY: Yeah?
Um, do you skate here every day?
Of course.
Oh, yeah, whatÂ´s the going rate
for 60 seconds in?
BOY: Couple of quid.
CRABBE: A couple of quid?
ThatÂ´s Â£120 an hour!
BOY: ItÂ´s a sellerÂ´s market.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Uh, now,
apart from the postman,
have you seen anybody
delivering letters
to the stage door here?
BOY: Why?
Uh IÂ´ll ask the questions,
you do the answers.
BOY: DonÂ´t tell me.
You do this for a living, right?
JimmyÂ´s your man.
Who, Jimmy?
BOY: OscarÂ´s Burger Bar.
JimmyÂ´s the one with the ring
through his nose.
OscarÂ´s Burger Bar.
Ring through his nose.
It will be there, okay? Thank you.
I need some information, Jimmy.
IÂ´m interested in special deliveries
to the stage door
at the theatre this week.
Letters?
JIMMY: I donÂ´t do anything
that ainÂ´t legit.
CRABBE: No, itÂ´s understood.
JIMMY: Yeah, I delivered a couple.
CRABBE: Who for?
JIMMY: A woman.
CRABBE: Have you got a description?
She was, uh, you know,
medium height, short hair.
CRABBE: Age?
Getting on a bit
like the same as you.
CRABBE: Um, clothes? Wedding rings?
Light mac.
Oh, yeah, and this, uh, medallion thing.
CRABBE: Wh
Right.
Oh, Miss Revelle.
I need to see Inspector Crabbe
immediately.
CAMBRIDGE: She wonÂ´t say
what itÂ´s about,
and she really is in a terrible state.
- CRABBE: Is that so?
- CAMBRIDGE: Mm-hmm.
REVELLE: Oh, thank God.
This case in the paper
CRABBE: What case.
REVELLE: Um, the missing girl.
I know whoÂ´s responsible.
CRABBE: No, no, no. Stop, stop.
Miss Revelle.
REVELLE: You must just trust me,
Inspector.
CRABBE: You really are
a most remarkable woman.
Thank you.
CRABBE: Not content with sending
yourself threatening letters
REVELLE: What?
now you want to trespass
on another familyÂ´s grief.
To be followed, I suppose,
by a press conference at the gravesite.
I ought to do you
for wasting police time.
I donÂ´t understand.
Look, if I find out
that youÂ´ve approached
that dead girlÂ´s family,
if youÂ´ve pestered them in any way,
I shall see that you face
serious charges.
Good day.
MARGARET: Another dozen.
STEVE: A souffle then, Chef, eh?
- CRABBE: Whatever!
- MARGARET: Henry?
What?
MARGARET: DonÂ´t take it out
on the rest of us.
IÂ´m sorry. Making bread usually helps.
IÂ´m just so angry!
IÂ´m angry with me, I"m angry with her.
Even if I didnÂ´t believe it,
youÂ´d think she could.
I mean, even if she didnÂ´t
believe it herself,
at least sheÂ´d be motivated
by a desire to help people.
So she lied about the letter?
Exactly. She lied.
Well, maybe she didnÂ´t lie
about anything else?
Well, how would anybody know?
Henry, itÂ´s a case.
Fisher asked you to solve it,
you solved it.
CRABBE: No. I got it wrong, Margaret.
I thought she was one of the good guys.
Pie in the Sky?
Yeah, yeah, yeah, hang on.
ItÂ´s for you, Chef.
Will you take a message? IÂ´m busy.
Well, itÂ´s Cambridge.
She said itÂ´s important.
Uhh!
What do you want?
CAMBRIDGE: April Reynolds
apprehended by the stage doorkeeper,
10:40 A.M., delivering
an anonymous letter.
CRABBE: Addressed to Miss Revelle?
CAMBRIDGE: Correct.
CRABBE: Did she send the other letters?
- CAMBRIDGE: Yes.
- CRABBE: Did she say why?
CAMBRIDGE: Deeply religious, apparently.
She considers disturbing the dead
a punishable sin, at least
before the day of judgement.
What have I done, Cambridge?
IÂ´m afraid Miss RevelleÂ´s gone out.
Do you know where sheÂ´s gone?
WOMAN: No, sorry.
But she did ask to see
a telephone directory.
Mm-hmm what was that paper
she was waving around?
CAMBRIDGE: Barstock Gazette, sir.
CRABBE: Thanks.
"Body identified as Sally Davis."
Sally "Sally loves you, Jez."
ThatÂ´s it. SheÂ´s going to see Jez Leigh.
CAMBRIDGE: You said yourself,
you didnÂ´t think Leigh would
deliberately harm Miss Revelle.
CRABBE: The boyÂ´s unstable.
Besides, that was before I had
him down as a possible murderer.
- REVELLE: Hello, Jez.
- LEIGH: Get out of here.
I know about Sally.
- IÂ´ll break your foot.
- REVELLE: Please?
LEIGH: YouÂ´re messing about.
DonÂ´t you think you ought
to listen to what I have to say?
CRABBE: 29, 30, 31, 32, 35. Here it is.
WhenÂ´s that backup due?
CAMBRIDGE: Oh, about five minutes.
CRABBE: Right,
IÂ´ll go through the front,
you do round the back, all right?
LEIGH: So what do you want?
REVELLE: IÂ´m just here to help.
I want to talk to you.
IÂ´m just here to help.
LEIGH: You canÂ´t help me.
CRABBE: You all right?
- REVELLE: Mr. Crabbe?
- LEIGH: What are you doing here?
CRABBE: Look, you know you
wanted to talk to someone.
ThatÂ´s why you go to
the theatre last night.
REVELLE: No, just wait a minute,
Mr. Crabbe.
Tell us.
Sally?
You can just tell us.
CRABBE: Sally Davis.
SheÂ´s very pretty Sally.
You must have had a good time together.
LEIGH: Yeah. She was wild.
Always larking about.
CRABBE: Why didnÂ´t you tell
anyone she was your girlfriend?
IÂ´ve got previous, right?
Her Dad would have kicked up a storm.
Must have been exciting
meeting in secret?
Sally thought it was great.
When you said,
she loved larking about
what do you mean?
Stood on the edge of the quarry
that sort of thing.
Gave me a buzz.
CRABBE: And what happened
on that last night?
REVELLE: Tell us.
ItÂ´s easier to talk.
SheÂ´d had a couple
of cans of a smoke.
Nothing.
Only, she was there,
and she
Go on.
I saw her panicking,
trying to get back
screaming out.
And there were stones
rolling down big stones.
CRABBE: What did you do?
I waited.
CRABBE: What for?
For the tape to rewind, you know?
Her back on the edge giving me a buzz.
I thought
"If I donÂ´t move, itÂ´d be all right."
REVELLE: How long did you stay there?
I donÂ´t know.
CRABBE: But later
you went down later?
LEIGH: Yeah.
And what about Sally?
REVELLE: Sally wonÂ´t mind
if you tell us.
LEIGH: Her neck was twisted
funny, and there was blood.
And, uh, her eyes kept staring.
Was she still alive, Jez?
I told her to stop mucking about.
I kicked her. But she died.
So, then you buried her?
IÂ´ve got a record.
I knew what youÂ´d think.
NothingÂ´s gone right since.
Stupid, crazy bitch.
- FISHER: Morning.
- CAMBRIDGE: Morning, sir.
I like coming in person
to familiarize myself with the scene.
ItÂ´s a good dayÂ´s work, Crabbe.
Two for the price of one, eh?
CRABBE: Well, sort of, sir, yes.
FISHER: I said the writer
of those letters
was a religious crank, didnÂ´t I?
Yes, indeed, you did.
FISHER: Organize a press
conference for this afternoon.
Getting a result on the Sally Davis body
within 24 hours is tremendous value.
CRABBE: ItÂ´s wasnÂ´t exactly
my collar, sir.
FISHER: Whose then? Cambridge?
CRABBE: No.
It was, uh, Miss Revelle, sir.
FISHER: Reve
She didnÂ´t have a
Vision, sir? Yeah.
Containment exercise, Crabbe.
IÂ´ll handle the press.
You deal with Miss Revelle.
CRABBE: Right.
I owe you an apology.
REVELLE: Funny thing
is IÂ´m grateful to you.
Me
When you walked out this
morning, it was down to me.
I couldnÂ´t just pass the information on
and let someone else deal with it.
CRABBE: I made a bad mistake there.
REVELLE: You were the one
who pointed out that Jez Leigh
had something else on his mind.
Well, thatÂ´s just about all I did.
Not exactly.
If IÂ´m honest, up Â´til now IÂ´ve
never been really certain
whose voice I was hearing.
Does it matter?
To me. Very much.
With Jez Leigh,
it was different.
CRABBE: How?
Even before today, I sensed
Sally DavisÂ´ story.
I heard her so clearly.
CRABBE: You never said anything.
REVELLE: YouÂ´re an old cynic,
Henry Crabbe.
CRABBE: No, no, no, not at all.
No, I happen to think youÂ´ve got
some of the most important
abilities a detective can have.
What?
Well, the ability to listen
and the strength and conviction
to follow your instincts.
Thank you.
Abilities I so miserably failed
to put into practice myself.
Oh, I donÂ´t agree.
You said something far more
important than that.
WhatÂ´s that?
Having the guts to admit you were wrong.
You sure you wouldnÂ´t like me to
drive you to the door, sir?
CRABBE: Absolutely. This is perfect.
CAMBRIDGE: Okay. Bye, sir.
CRABBE: Bye-bye, Cambridge.
PartyinÂ´ to the place, letÂ´s go
"Dweeb DivineÂ´s Greatest Remix."
I do apologize.
What is this?!
Uh, some scratch Â´n mix.
CRABBE: Scratch Â´n mix.
And what was it doing playing
in the hen house?
MARGARET: Egg productivity, Henry.
CRABBE: Would you care to
elaborate on that, Margaret?
MARGARET: Those chickens
didnÂ´t know the meaning
of the word "work."
NICOLA: Definitely chilled out.
Chilled out?
And how is this supposed to help?
Well, we thought a bit
of in-house techno-dance music
would get Â´em going a bit more
than that boring Elgar.
Boring Elgar?
And before you get elitist
about this, Henry,
itÂ´s been a great success.
ProductivityÂ´s trebled.
But at what cost?
What do you mean, at what cost?
Steve?
How many of those Hollandaise
sauces failed to mix?
Uh, three, Chef.
CRABBE: Three
thatÂ´s three dozen eggs, right?
And how many of those Yorkshire puddings
failed to rise, apart from
acts of Pizza Woman?
- Uh, about 24?
- CRABBE: About 24.
Three dozen, two dozen,
five dozen eggs wasted,
all gone to waste
not to mention the wear and tear
on my peace of mind.
See, Margaret, stressed out
chickens lay stressed out eggs.
Happy and contented chickens
lay happy and contented eggs.
Eggs that go wobbling up
to olive oil and say,
"LetÂ´s make mayonnaise."
ItÂ´s a well-known fact.
Quality is nearly always sacrificed
when it comes to quantity.
Except in your case, Henry.
Except in Oh, shut up.